Romance of a Sort
by isthisathingnow
Summary: James has a strange way of seducting his quartermaster and Q isn't seduced at all. If you've seen this on AO3 and are wondering why the hell I haven't updated in like a month, it's because of school and other….life crap so yeah...I'm sorry!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Ian Flemming and respective places.

Other characters are pathetic attempts at references to other things Ben Whishaw has been in.

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It never really occurred to James that somebody would refuse him. He'd always been so completely sure of himself. Sure of what he wanted, who he wanted and the things he wanted to do with those people. And since that damned day in the museum, James wanted to do particularly wicked things to his skinny little quartermaster.

James knew Q would never admit the effect the double-ohs advances had on him but he'd often see a sliver of a pink tongue every time he moved a little too close to be considered casual. His eyes would fall from Bond's eyes and to his buttons that were strategically left open with every visit to Q-Branch. James knew how to seduce, one could go as far as saying it went hand in hand with the gunshots and espionage part of his occupation.

Q knew this and took nothing 007 said seriously. And yet. His eyes seemed to plead for Q's attention and would brighten considerably every time he wasn't kicked out with accusations of disturbing the peace. They were very nice eyes indeed. The ears were a little too protruding to be charming but everyone has their flaws. Even James Bond.

Q looked over the work of an employee whose name he could only sometimes remember and who never wore their nametag. What kind of lunatic names their child Caliban? He steps back with an encouraging nod and moves on to the next desk. Winifred- Freddie if she's been especially helpful- gave Q a self-satisfied smirk and handed him a stapled booklet. Q raises a brow. "Progress since my last prototype of the heat signature scanner." She explains.

With a nod and a quick skim of her transcripts, Q notes that although she's made copious annotations and suggestions for improvement, very little work was actually done and he says as much to her. Bond has, of course been listening for a least a minute or two as Q scolds her and interjects, suggesting he not be so harsh on the "poor little thing". Q immediately suspects that Bond is sleeping with her or at least plans to within the week. Suspicions that are strengthened as he turns and sees Bond winking at her around him.

Q is almost irritated, not angry, he thinks to himself and definitely not jealous. He was head of bloody Q-Branch. He deserves respect. From Bond of all people. Bond, who lays his life in Q's hands time after time. Who already trusts Q to not put self-detonating bombs in his equipment. Q huffs out a short sigh and shoves 007 away from the desk and into his newly acquired office.

The age jokes never cease, even when Bond has Q pushed against the wall and is gasping into his mouth, both of them beginning to shake with want. He pulls back from Q's lips and smirks "Are you even legal?" and that's it. Q is marching away, straightening his cardigan and fixing his hair. He watches several of his workers look at him knowingly, until he shoots them a glare and they're eyes dart back to the screen. He trudges past Eve on his way to the elevator. She smiles brightly and he almost feels bad for walking past with just a curt nod in her direction. Right now he has things to do.

He pushes the button for the elevator and waits for the _ding_ and steps in as the doors open. He presses the button that will take him to the shooting range. He'd recently gotten into the habit of visiting whenever he was particularly livid or needed a distraction. Right now was both. If Bond had such an aversion for treating him with some form of decency, why not just leave Q be? Obviously he was opposed the cradle-robbing, even when it wasn't.

Q picked up a gun and made his way to a stall. He lifted the gun and fired off one round before closing his eyes and shooting two more. After a deep breath and one last shot, he opened his eyes and lowered the gun. Q usually came here when the agents had been deployed or were off duty and he could push off his duties to his underlings for the time being. This would explain why he did not expect company and came so close to jumping three feet in the air when Alec Trevelyan cleared his throat.

"Q." he said in greeting. The quartermaster inclined his head in turn. "006, I wasn't aware that I wasn't alone." Alec smiled and jerked his head toward the gun in Q's hand. "Who taught you to shoot?" "I taught myself, right here actually." Q replied. 006 looked moderately impressed. "What brings you here? Bond being a dick?" A brief smile and nod confirmed 006's question.

The pair stood in a somewhat comfortable silence until Q made an exit, declaring that he should return to Q-Branch lest it turn to shambles in his absence. Alec watches him leave before checking the paper the quartermaster shot at. If that were a person, they'd be having an awful lot of trouble breathing with the two holes in each lung and final hole in the throat. "Damn." He breathed, shaking his head. "James, you lucky bastard."

Q strode into Q-Branch to find that Bond had gone and Winifred had abandoned her desk. In light of earlier events, Q felt no reason to think it was a mere coincidence. He sees the techies giving each other wary looks before Belle stood up. "Sir? I need your help with something, could you come over here for a minute?" An overall pretty woman but her eyes looked pig-like when she wasn't being completely honest. He wandered over nonetheless. Q could see where she had messed up. An upset in the code, obviously on purpose.

He called her over and sat her down. "Belle, I trust in your abilities and I value your input but should you ever put your work at stake to keep something from me, I will consider it the highest of insults." He spoke lowly so not to arouse suspicion. Belle nodded and set immediately to work, correcting the coding error she'd made. Q nodded approvingly, stepping back to give everyone's progress a quick check before he returned to his office.

Several people cast wary glances to Q's office, making him so very eager to push open the doors. No doubt 007 had left Q a present. Probably a disassembled radio or the barrel of a gun. Something to get his attention and make him cross. What Q found however was neither a radio, nor gun. It was not even a piece of equipment. Rather a very red-faced Winifred spread out on his desk, Bond thrusting himself between her legs. The sight brought a red flush to the quartermasters' face, his knuckles rapidly turning white with the strain of the fists his hands were making.

He made a grand show of slamming the door, eliciting a gasp from the woman but barely a glance from the man. Winifred tried to push the agent off of her immediately but Bond only increased his speed. He continued to tear moans from her even as she struggled to detangle herself from the mess of limbs.

Q had, on occasion, wondered what sex with 007 would be like. He'd imagined it would be much like everything else Bond did; efficient, dangerous and completely in his own time. Q stood in livid silence as Winifred finally coaxed 007 away from her and adjusted her clothing. She rushed out, still pulling down her skirt from where it had bunched around her hips. Bond however languidly pulled his pants and trousers up, showing no repentance for what he'd just done. In Q's office. On his desk. He simply slid into Q's chair and waited to be scolded.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Q stood stoically, crossed his arms and just stared. He stared until he saw 007's confident, shit-eating grin start to waver. Then he moved forward to invade the agents personal space. "Get out." His voice was barely a whisper but still managed to hold every bit of hostility, of poison it had meant to.

For a moment, Bond looked as if he was going to challenge Q or argue but the look on his face as stood told the quartermaster that he'd thought twice and decided to comply to orders for once. Bond shut the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

James had one average working week off. He was honestly surprised when Q hadn't dobbed him in for the…incident. He'd expected hours of lectures about the indecency of shagging in someone else's office and the importance of his and his quartermasters "working relationship" but instead was greeted by M with a pat on the back, a good job and a grant for 5 days off. Moneypenny had eyed him viciously on his way in, scowling as he went. She'd reached under the table and released the doors with a little more force than what was necessary.

He was now sitting in his car, outside MI6 having realised he'd forgotten to ask where his new flat was. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and sent a text to Moneypenny, thinking that if anyone knew, it would be her.

_Where's my flat? Forgot to ask. –Bond.  
_  
Bond started up the engine and began driving while he waited for the text. He reached the third set of traffic lights before his screen lit up.

_Make it up to Q and I might tell you. –Moneypenny._

James huffed at his phone before he tossed it onto the passenger seat. Fat lot of good that'll do. The quartermaster almost shot his head off the last time he went in there. Literally. Q was testing a new gun that Bond was given specific instructions to stay away from until all testing was through and aimed it right between James' eyes when he opened the door. While Q had good reason, James thought it was a bit of an overreaction. After all, the only damage done really was nothing more than a few scattered papers.

Perhaps Q would fire the woman in a fit of rage. The notion made James smile. James had always wanted to see what Q would look like angry, red-faced and breathing deep. Mostly because that was the closest to post-orgasm, he'd found. Yesterday was his first time and it was directed at him. While the quartermasters face was barely even pink and his breathing was as even as ever, the ire in his voice excited James, lighting his blood with familiar challenge. He looked forward to the moment he'd get Q into bed with him very much It didn't even have to be a bed, James thought. He could settle for a counter or kitchen table. He wasn't entirely picky about these things.

James pulled over, thinking about Q's impossibly red lips and how gorgeous they'd look even redder from Bonds' kisses or better yet, stretched around Bonds' cock and who knows, maybe he'd even return the favour. He did love to feel his lovers squirm beneath him. To hear them pant and beg for him. If he thought about it deeper, James supposed it would point to him wanting to feel needed and in a way it did. There was a part of him, quite a substantial part, which craved attention.

He reached over to grab his phone and tapped the reply button on Eve's text.

_Give me his address and I'll see what I can do. –Bond. _

He waited for her reply, the hand that wasn't holding his phone, tapping at the steering wheel and when his screen lit up again, he nodded to himself and once again started the car. Q was, of course, still at work and would continue to be there for several more hours or until he was shepherded somewhat forcefully away from the computers and out the door. That gave him copious amounts of time to decide on his tactics.

/

Q stood in M's office while his file was being read over. He made an attempt at asking why he was here but was silenced by a raised hand. M's eyes scanned over the paper for another minute before he looked up, seemingly surprised at seeing Q despite being the one who summoned him. "It has come to my attention that 007 was found in a compromising position with one of yours." Q nodded in confirmation as M adds; "In your office." The quartermaster sighs and again nods. "Why did you not inform me?" M asks, in a way that reminded Q of a parent who was dealing with a difficult child.

Q waved a hand hopelessly. "I didn't think it was important enough sir." He stands awkwardly, waiting to be dismissed. M is silent. His eyes cast meaningfully to the chairs. Q huffs a sigh and throws himself onto a chair. "To be clear sir, you want me to tell you about 007 fucking one of my own on my desk?" Q asked, tapping the arm of the chair.

To be fair, M didn't even bat an eyelid at Q's crass question. He simply inclined his head for the Quartermaster to proceed. Q sat a little straighter and began to recollect the events of the day leading up to his discovery of the double-oh agents indecently exposed in his office. M nodded his head as he listened, humming in the appropriate places.

Once Q had finished, he was motioned out with an "I'll get back to you on the 007 topic at a later date." Moneypenny sat perched on the edge of her desk, probably waiting for Q to come out. She hopped off and threaded her arm though his when he walked past. "My darling Q," she cooed. "How about you and me get a nice cup of coffee and talk about the big bad double-oh agents?" Q sighed but allowed himself to be led into the elevator.

Eve pushed the button for the Ground floor and within seconds the doors were opening again and Eve was tugging him out. "I feel so strange calling you anything but Q, even outside of the office." She stated, tucking her hand into Q's arm. He gave a knowing nod but otherwise stayed quiet. The pair exited the building in favour of a place that serves halfway decent beverages. A new café had opened three blocks closer than their usual. Eve jerked her head toward the entrance questioningly, earning a shrug and slow nod in answer.

Q eyed the interior somewhat suspiciously. He'd seen the construction underway of course. It was on his commute to and from work but the startlingly orange furniture made his eyebrows draw together and his gaze slide to Moneypenny. Her eyes lit up and a grin plastered itself on her face. "I like this place." She declared. Q rolled his eyes. "Of course you do." he sneered. "It looks like the inside of your wardrobe."

Eve hummed in agreement, her eyes scanning over the chalkboard menu strategically placed far enough away from the checkout counter to be asked if they're ready to order. "You'd better get used to it sweetie." she chimed. "I think we've found our new place."


End file.
